Note: Readers, this blog post is inherently personal and really meant for someone. I’m posting it on here because it will explain a lot of how I’m feeling and it’s my way of processing things as they happen. This also (perhaps) may be potentially offensive to anyone reading it. Don’t say that I didn’t warn you.

I have to say something before I write this all down: I don’t expect anything from you anymore. It was wrong for me to do so in the first place. Nor should I assume that I know you or understand you, because you constantly shapeshift and play different roles every single time we interact. As a raging idealist and romantic, it’s sometimes difficult to grasp the concept of multifaceted people and to make sure I’m not falling for an idealisation of someone, but the complexity, strengths and flaws of a real human being. I’m aware of my own insecurities and complicated sense of self– but with you, it’s a different story. It makes you mysterious and enigmatic. You will always be just out of reach to me, because no matter how hard I push and chase, you slip through my fingers. You should know that I want to speak your language, I want to get you and I want to understand you– but I’m learning to accept the way things are now. I get and love complicated people, I like that you’re not just one thing. But when I try to speak your language, the translation just gets jumbled in the process. I’ve read your blog, B. I know that you can communicate soundly– especially after your intense, brooding periods. The problem is that you don’t want to. And I guess I’m cool with that. You feel things in full force and like to feel them without anyone disturbing you. This doesn’t jive well with my textbook overthinking and my ferocious intensity. I like to talk things out, while you like feeling it and letting shit flow. I don’t want to change you, or the way you do things. I’m not even trying to figure your shit out– I can’t afford to at a distance, nor do I want to. That’s when we’re at our dirtiest.

I don’t know if this is an emotional plea or anything– I think I am comfortable and at peace enough with myself and what we had. I just think about it from time to time as an attempt to either let you go or call you back to me. I idealised you and put you on a pedestal for so long that now, I’m not sure how you can or ever will fit into my life again- but that’s not really up for me to decide, is it? You should know that I see some of your sides, and sometimes I don’t like them. We play fucking dirty with each other because we can, and because we’re both sick of each other’s shit. At the end of the day, we’re best for each other when we’re around each other. I don’t think I can explain those two nights better than that. We are at our best with each other in person because we can see each other at face value: none of the emotional bullshit clouding our judgment. Just you and I existing in our own space– spitting stupid shit out of our mouths, laughing our asses off, chatting for hours about everything and nothing, fucking each other into oblivion, and curling up next to each other, enjoying the quiet.

The space that you require was just too much for me to deal with, and that’s why I pushed too hard with you. But I even loved the shit out of you at your worst. Admittedly, when I decide on something I want, I’m a bit childish in that aspect and I sort of “want it my way or not at all.” So I pushed. I pushed something that wasn’t even worth a commitment onto you, despite your insistence for less. My bad. I wanted stability from you when you honestly, are not the type to even want that. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s been in this predicament– I’m sure you slip out of many women’s fingers because you’re not ready for a commitment. I’m not sure when or if you’ll ever be, which is fine. I get your desperate need for someone to understand you because you don’t really understand yourself and struggle with a lot of things internally. All that struggle made you more attractive to me, but perhaps it’s something that I shouldn’t have been romanticising, and instead dealt with it as a part of you. In my fight for stability with you, I ignored many of the qualities that made you, well… you. I was looking towards the hypothetical future, when I should have been enjoying the present with you. And it’s something that I shouldn’t have done, so I’m sorry. I’ll pine no longer. The only sadness I’ll feel is the fact that you don’t want to remain in my life as a friend.

In the process of getting over you, I find myself drawn to someone who acts as your foil. His qualities balance yours out in a way that both satisfy and annoy me. In many ways, he is your opposite. He’s pragmatic and realistic, and someone who normally settles in slowly. On our one night together, I remember looking at him and just knowing that he wasn’t in it for the sex– to a certain extent, he actually liked me. Ironically, the night we spent together may have been our only one together in person… but I’ve found myself in steady communication with him and I’ve gotten to know him more over the past couple months, and I slowly start to like him more and more. I don’t have to manipulate him into talking to me– he enjoys speaking to me on his own time and accord. While we joke about sex I don’t have to fight with him about what this is– with the relative distance in between us, I’m aware that nothing substantial could really happen. It’s just weird, I don’t really overthink things with him. Perhaps it’s because I know he’s capable of something in the longer-term. While he’s not aggressive like I am, he still calls me out on my shit and will criticise me when I need it. He’s refreshing and keeps me grounded. I’m happy to be back on land instead of drowning in you.

Falling for you taught me a lot about myself. You are all about the mind games. And while I’m all for intellectually stimulating debates (of which we’ve had plenty,) I’m not down for that when it comes to my emotions. I liked that you kept me on my toes, always made me laugh, and I enjoyed just being with you and existing in our own space. But when you weren’t around, it was back to the mind games. I guess what I’m saying is, you know how you always say that you’re not really sure who you are and that people play these different roles for different people? I’ve seen some of those roles and while I struggle to understand you, I just want you to know that I at least see it. I don’t know. I don’t think you’re made for commitment or distance, and while it’s something you desire, you sort of struggle with it. (Though as a slight quirky aside, I recommend you watch the Before… trilogy: Before Sunrise, Before Sunset and Before Midnight, in order. They’ve changed my views on commitment, enjoying myself in the moment, and love & relationships in general. I think you’d enjoy them. It’s slow at first, but trust me, they’re worth a watch.) I’m frustrating myself because I keep psychoanalysing you and I should just let you be. So, that’s what I’m doing. None of this green light Gatsby, overromanticised bullshit anymore. I’m happy you’re living your life, and I’m going on to live mine. I don’t want to be bitter, like our last interaction. I just want (after so many fucking months) to stop struggling with this idea that you won’t be around and let go.

So I am.

I’m tired of forcing myself into your gravitational pull. You’ve made it clear that I don’t really belong there. If we ever find ourselves in each other’s paths, I’m hoping you’ll at least momentarily orbit back to me for a second and exchange pleasantries. I’ll do the same for you, I promise.

—–

To the rest: “If it’s over let it go and come tomorrow it will seem so yesterday.” Preach, Hilary Duff, preach. Truer words have never been spoken.

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About Me

24, what a bore. San Francisco transplant via Chicago. Born and raised in Hawaii. Body and sex positive liberal feminist filipina pursuing a post-bacc pre-med program after undergrad studies in psych. Type two diabetic and panda enthusiast with a love for puppies and her boyfriend.